


The Scorpion Part 3: The Hunter

by devilgoat



Series: The Scorpion [3]
Category: Halloween (2018), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Bondage, Dirty Laundry, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fingering, Frottage, Gags, Gender-neutral Reader, Knife Play, Mask Upkeep, Murder, Oral Sex, Other, Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Slow Burn, Stalking, trans!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilgoat/pseuds/devilgoat
Summary: Michael is on the hunt, and it's all for you. When he arrives home covered in blood, the first thing you think to do is clean up his mask and clothes.





	The Scorpion Part 3: The Hunter

Before you were fully awake, shivers flowed through your body and over your skin. You grasped at the covers around you and placed yourself further into a cocoon. Rolling to one side, you hit a large mass on your bed that you were not expecting. It was hard, but warm, and your barely conscious mind drew you to its heat and you pressed yourself against it. Your arm wrapped around it, and you pulled it towards you. When Michael rolled over to get closer to you, you realized it wasn’t the bundle of blankets you had thought it was, but The Shape instead. 

 

You couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. Even when he was awake, you could mistake him for a stone statue. There was the hint of muffled breathing from behind his mask, but the darkness of his mask’s eyeholes hid anything you could gain from it. He was staring upwards towards the ceiling, his hands resting at his sides and his entire body above the covers. You were more than a little surprised to see Michael there. He usually never stayed the night and especially not the morning, but last night was different. 

 

After chasing Charles from your home and returning to you, he had done things you weren’t quite expecting, and a new level of intimacy was achieved. While knowing each other for a while now, he never allowed you to see him naked, and although not fully naked the night before, he had shown you his scars and his vulnerability. You were quite sure that you were the first person who had been given that gift. You were also sure that you were the First, period. Michael was in hibernation in Smith’s Grove, and you were the first to encounter him and live. It wouldn’t be too hard to imagine that you were also the first one that he decided to act out his urges towards. There was no telling what was going on in his head half the time, and he surely wasn’t going to tell you a word about it. 

 

But none of that mattered anymore, now. You were here with him and it felt right in every possible sense. Your anxious worrying was gone. Your fears of being robbed, mugged, attacked, would never enter your mind again because Michael was here and he was here for you. There would never be another day, which you worried about whether you had left the door unlocked. There would never be a night in which you woke up from a nightmare and felt scared and alone. Because now Michael was here. 

 

You pulled yourself as close as you possibly could to Michael’s body. For a man so emotionless, so ruthless, he was surprisingly warm. He was like a personal heater that you had tucked into bed. A personal heater that could kill at a moment’s notice, but it was a pretty swell heater, you thought. 

 

You felt yourself quickly falling asleep once more. Your eyes grew heavy and your heart slowed. You took in Michael’s scent, and you could hear his heart beat, beat, beat—

 

And your alarm was ringing. Your heart immediately started to pound in your chest as it jumpstarted from the sudden noise. You groaned in frustration at having to wake up, but your body was already pulling you into autopilot. The list of things you needed to do started to line up in your mind. You were pulling yourself to the side of your bed when Michael grabbed you by the arm. It shocked you at first, the sudden exit from his ‘sleep’, but you turned your head and looked at him with a smile. Maybe he wasn’t asleep after all. 

 

Michael Myers looked up at you, and cocked his head. He made the smallest grunt and pulled you back to his side on the bed. His strength was immense, and it only took a small tug to move you around. You giggled at him and started to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go. 

 

“Come on, Michael,” you said, “I need to get to work.” You weren’t upset at him. No, how could you be? But if you wanted to make principal within a few years, you had to show you were up for the job. And it didn’t help that you had a bad track record for being late to begin with. 

 

You were able to roll out of bed once more, and Michael hesitantly let go of your arm. You hurried over to the bathroom right outside your room and immediately turned on the shower. You had slept in just your underwear, so once you had stripped free of that and checked to see if the water was warm enough, you hopped right in. You had always set your alarm a little bit earlier than another person would, but you always found a way to waste time in the morning, and you couldn’t afford to be late again. 

 

Shampoo was in your hair when you heard the bathroom door creak open. You tried to open your eyes but the soap immediately stung and bit them, so you closed them right back up again. You tried to scrub the pain out of your eyes as quickly as you could, and when you finally managed to open them without much pain, you saw the dark shadow behind the opaque plastic shower curtain. Your heart jumped just a little, even though you knew who was standing behind it. You peaked your head out the side and there was Michael, standing patiently in the middle of your cramped bathroom. He tilted his head in curiosity and you couldn’t help but to smile before ducking back into the shower. You knew he just wanted to watch, and you weren’t going to chase him away, but he was going to have to stand there and wait for you to be done. A few moments later, as you were finding the last bits of shampoo from your hair, you heard the metal rings of the shower curtain get pushed aside. 

 

Your eyes flew open underneath the warm water flowing over you, and there was Michael, his hand pushing the entire curtain away as he was actually climbing into the shower, fully clothed. 

 

“Wait, Michael, no no no!” You half yelled as the space inside the shower immediately shrunk and you were pushed into the corner from Michael’s sheer size alone. His dark blue coveralls immediately began to get soaked, and you could see water droplets cling to the plastic of his mask in thick, heavy clumps before pouring down. Your hand shot to one side and you turned the shower off as quick as you could. You stood there, already shivering in your nakedness, and Michael Myers simply stood and watched you. His hands made no movement to grab you, and his eyes revealed nothing to you. You figured that he just wanted to be there with you. 

 

You sighed and tried to maneuver yourself around his mass and stepped out of the shower and into the stuffy bathroom air. You pulled off two towels from the rack, one for you, and one for Michael. The one meant for The Shape was held out to him. He didn’t take at first, and when you waved it slightly to get him to take it from your hands you realized why. He was staring at your steaming nakedness. He stared at the dripping wet hair atop your head, and his eyes flowed down to your bruised neck. His fingerprints were much clearer now, and the soreness in your throat told you that that they looked just as bad as it felt. But it was worth it, and you didn’t doubt that. 

 

He finally took the towel from you. He steadily reached up to dry the faux hair ingrained in his mask in slow, calculated movements. Everything was calculated. Michael didn’t do anything on a whim or without thinking. He was a planner. He would watch and wait for years if he needed to. He already had once before. Waiting for that Halloween night. The gears were constantly turning in his head. You wondered if the reason he didn’t sleep was because he was always thinking. Or maybe it was the other way around. 

 

You turned around to face your foggy mirror and dried yourself as best as you could before wiping away the steam on the glass. You looked over your bruises and pressed them gently. Their marks and pain sent pleasurable aches through your body, and you already knew that you would be touching them throughout the day as a pleasant reminder. At least you would look suspicious wearing a turtleneck or scarf indoors during the dreary autumn. 

 

You wrapped your towel around yourself and began to brush your teeth. You could still feel Michael’s presence behind you but you knew you needed to hurry. You spit out the toothpaste and looked up into your mirror. Michael was standing right behind you, just like all those predictable scares that you saw in horror movies. But now, you found it funny. 

 

Michael followed you out of the bathroom, lagging only a few feet behind. You thought he resembled a less hyper puppy that refused to leave your side. A less hyper, more murderous puppy. It was almost strange to think of the horrors Michael was able to commit. But never with you. 

 

You got dressed like normal, except for the very large man in the corner of your room that couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

 

He followed you down the hall and into the kitchen. You didn’t have time for an elaborate breakfast, so you quickly toasted a bagel and smeared some cream cheese on it. Without realizing it, you’ve prepared another for Michael as well. He was standing under the tall arch between the kitchen and living room, watching of course. When you thought about it, you had never seen him eat. You wondered if he preferred to be in private, or if he just didn’t eat at all. You wrapped the bagel up in a napkin and handed it to Michael. 

 

“Here,” you said. “In case you get hungry later.” 

 

For the first time since this morning, you looked away from you and down to the bagel in his hand. He stared at it for some time, assessing it, before he tucked it into his large pocket. 

 

You hid a smile as you walked past him. You were touched in a small, silly way, but touched nonetheless. You headed out the door; not bothering to close it behind you because you knew Michael would not be far behind. 

 

You heard his breathing the entire walk to work. 

 

Your turtleneck did a good enough job at hiding your bruises, and as you stopped right before the double doors of Haddonfield High, you gripped your neck. The pain shot through your body and you almost gasped aloud in ecstasy. You turned around to look at wooded street across from the school. The beautiful mix of colors blended together as a breeze shook the trees. 

 

You got a glimpse of the mask. 

 

He was there, and he would be watching. 

 

You walked through the double doors and started your day under the watchful eye of your protector. 

 

——

 

Michael was out there, you knew this, but what you didn’t know where his plans. He circled around the school, waiting, thinking. He was waiting for his prey. The one that had gotten away. No, not Laurie, she was long gone now. But the other one. The one that betrayed your trust; the one that tried to hurt you. 

 

He let him leave, but only because you asked. That didn’t mean he was going to let him live. He watched the back of your head from the office window. He saw your nodding as you spoke to students and the slump of your shoulders whenever Janice got on your ass. 

 

He saw how your entire body froze with fright as Charles walked into the building, signed in at your desk, and left. 

 

Michael was an emotionless being, for the most part, that’s true. Even rage was uncommon. But the boiling, burning, caustic anger inside of him made his entire body tremble. He shook and shook as he watched Charles get close to you, get close to you, get close to you. 

 

And then he stopped shaking. And he started to plan. 

 

Michael walked the outskirts of the building, watching for any sign of the white shirt Charles seemed to own 10 pairs of. The Boogeyman caught sight of the bright, bleached white passing another window before heading towards the school gym. Michael made his way across the street. A simple metal fence stood between Michael and his prey. He checked to see if there was anyone watching, but of course there wasn’t. He climbed over the fence with ease, barely making a sound. 

 

He hunted. 

 

He waited. 

 

Waited for the perfect time to strike. He watched as Charles instructed his classes. He watched as he gave teenage girls the wrong kind of looks. He watched as Charles went into the gym teachers’ office on his own. He waited for the children to clear out. He waited until the day was over and the beast was at rest. 

 

Charles had his feet propped up on his desk. A large Band-Aid was plastered on his face where Michael had cut him the night before. It wasn’t big enough to cover the entire thing, and the inflamed edges of his wound peaked out from the top and bottom of it. 

 

Charles was too preoccupied with reading a magazine to notice the door open up behind him. The door let out the subtlest creak, but it didn’t matter now. Michael’s boots crossed the distance between hunter and prey. The knife was in his hand and then the knife was held above his head. He needed the prey to watch. He needed it to know what it had done. Michael needed to see its fear. 

 

A large, veiny hand gripped Charles by the hair and pulled upwards. Michael could feel the strands of hair rip and snap in his hand as he pulled Charles up into the air and turned his head to face him. Charles couldn’t scream because the knife was at his throat, and then inside of it. Michael stared into the prey’s eyes as it died. He saw the fear in its bulging eyes, in its flexing throat as the blood poured out of it. The blood squirted and pooled. It hit and splashed his coveralls and seeped into the fabric. It stained his skin underneath. 

 

He watched the life drain out of it until it was dead, until it was dead, until it was dead. 

 

Until it was empty. It was empty and it was gone and he made it go away. 

 

He let go of the carcass and it crumpled to the floor. As if to punctuate it, the final bell of the day rang. 

 

——

 

You were so relieved once the final bell rang in your ears. The work wasn’t too boring or painful, no, but it wasn’t fulfilling either. You wanted to help the students. You wanted to make change. Not get stuck with the leftovers of other people’s paperwork. But it was necessary. And now your reward was just a few minutes away. Michael should be tagging along right behind you. 

 

You checked the back window for a sign of the mask, but saw nothing. You figured he was already waiting at home. You already started planning the night with him in your head. You would invite him in, change into something comfortable, and get him to help you make dinner. If anything, he could help reach things from the top shelves or hold things as you were moving around. He was always a great assistant. He was patient, and he never hesitated in the tasks you asked him to do. And when he held you close during the cold night, and you could feel his heartbeat thumping through his chest, you felt whole. In a very strange way you felt whole. 

 

Things packed and ready to go, you headed out the building without bothering to say more than a quick goodbye to Janice. You were only turning the corner on the street when you heard Michael’s breathing behind you. You didn’t turn around. You never would, on these weeks. There was something about the fact that he was watching and following you that you found alluring. You heart was already racing. 

 

A few blocks down and you were in front of your house. You knew Michael would be going around the back to the door that was more hidden from public view, so you closed the door behind you and immediately began to get comfortable. The first item on the list was getting out of your stuffy professional clothing. You undressed slowly, just in case Michael was watching, but you knew he was. You opened the door as once you were done and were greeted by the wall of meat and muscle that formed Myers himself. You beamed up at him, but only for a moment. 

 

Your smile quickly faded when you looked down at his chest and noticed the dark splotches and stains that plagued his coveralls. It took you a moment to decipher what they were, considering the fact that his clothing was dark to begin with. But as you stared, it began to unlock in your mind. 

 

You had forgotten what he was capable of. 

 

Yes, he might trail you around like a puppy, whine when it was time for you to go to work, and even help you make dinner night after night. But he was cold, and calculating. Like the scorpion, it was in his nature to do harm. You of all people should’ve known that. 

 

Dinner would have to wait. 

 

You took a step back from surprise as you realized how thoroughly coated in blood Michael was. He was almost drenched from head to toe. Even his mask was stained with pinpricks of blood. You knew - or hoped - he wouldn’t hurt you. 

 

“M-Michael?” you stuttered. “What...what did you do?” 

 

No response. Just a subtle tilt of his head. 

 

“Will they...” you found yourself starting to panic, and took a breath in an effort to calm yourself. “Will they know it was you?” He gave the smallest shake of his head saying “no”. A thousand thoughts were simultaneously running through your mind. What did he do? Well of course he did, but who? Was it close by? Someone you knew? Someone good? Someone bad? Who? 

 

You took another breath. 

 

“Did they deserve it?” you asked. Michael tilted his head to the other side, but soon after nodded. 

 

“Was it...” you couldn’t finish the thought. You already knew that it was him. Although not exactly “relieved”, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He had it coming. You began to work on regaining your composure. You were reeling, and the blood wasn’t helping with that. 

 

“Alright,” you said in your calmest voice, “I think we need to get you out of those dirty clothes.” One step at a time. 

 

Michael looked down at himself, as if he were realizing for the first time that he was dirty. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that it almost looked as if he were shocked by it. He stared at the bloodstains for a bit too long. You were already walking out of the room and calling Michael to come follow you. He obeyed and stayed only a step behind as he followed you down the hall, into the kitchen, and finally into the side door that held the laundry room. You already had a load in there that you had forgotten to take out, but you threw it onto the floor and gave his coveralls the priority. 

 

You turned around to face him. He had resumed staring at his hands. It was odd, watching him like this. You realized you were probably the only person to ever see him after a kill and not be the next one on his list. He seemed fascinated by the blood as it sunk into the crevices and gentle wrinkles of his hands. 

 

“Michael?” You tried to get his attention. His head shot up to look at you, his hands still held up in front of him. You gestured towards his clothes. “Would you mind giving me that?”

 

He immediately seemed to close in on himself. He held his hands close to his body, and he almost seemed...unsure of himself somehow. 

 

He reached into his pockets in order to empty them and pulled out his blood-soaked knife out of his right pocket. You couldn’t help but to let out a gasp as you saw the stains of blood that were already turning a reddish brown on the blade. Michael passed you the knife, handle first. You grimaced as you held it, trying to get the least amount of blood on your hand as possible. He emptied out his other pocket, and also gave you the napkin that you had wrapped his bagel in that morning. No bagel, though. Despite the situation you found yourself in, you smiled knowing that not only did he eat, but also he ate what you gave him. 

 

You were pulled out of that self-satisfaction when Michael gave a pained whimper. You looked at him, and his head was tilting from side to side nervously. He was nervous. 

 

“Oh, uhh...How about I turn around?” You did so and faced the wall as you heard the soft clicks of a zipper behind you. Before you knew it, the bundle of clothing was now being held at your side. You took it and threw it into the washer with a generous amount of detergent and a little bit of softener. Hopefully it was still fresh enough so the blood would come out. You set the machine, and straightened yourself back up. 

 

And that was when you realized that Michael Myers was standing naked behind you. You knew he wanted a bit of his privacy, so you immediately began to search through the pile of recently washed and dried clothes that you had tossed on the floor. You were desperately searching for something he could wear to cover up. 

 

“Just give me a second, okay?” You rifled through the clothing and held up something suitable, but it was too small. All the clothes were too small. You began to mutter to yourself as you tried to find something he could cover himself with. Finding a bed sheet you had been meaning to wash that was lying in a basket, you grabbed it and threw it over your shoulder to Michael. 

 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “None of my stuff would fit you so just use that for now.” You heard rustling behind you and gave him a moment. “Alright,” you warned, “I’m turning around now.” Your movements were slow and deliberate as you slowly turned your body to face him once more. 

 

Michael had the bed sheet wrapped around his hips. From his hips up, he was bare. You were able to see his precious scars once more. Scars along his stomach and abdomen from old wounds victims had given him and scars on his chest from operations and surgeries at Smith’s Grove. 

 

He caught you staring at them and stepped close enough so you could touch them. Your fingers danced across the raised, tough tissue, and you fingers trailed off onto his smooth, pale skin. You looked up and remembered the flecks of blood that had sprayed onto his mask. 

 

“Oh no,” you sighed. “You made such a mess. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You gave Michael back his knife and took him by the other hand, and led him through the kitchen. The napkin he had used was tossed away on the way through and you pulled him into the bathroom. 

 

“Sit,” you said, as you gestured for Michael to sit down on the seat of the toilet. He lowered himself down, but despite this, his tall frame was still close to your eye-line. It made it at least a little easier to clean him up. You grabbed a small hand towel and dampened it with a bit of water. You wouldn’t dare remove Michael’s mask. Even if he were fully clothed - as opposed to now - the removal of his mask would have rendered him more naked than any being should ever be. To take it off would be to expose his frozen soul to the heat of the universe. Who were you to do this to him? It was his face. 

 

But you wanted to show him that you could take care of his soul. Or lack thereof. 

 

You took the damp towel and began to gently clean the white rubber of his “face”. Red began to smear across it, so you had press a little harder into him. You tried to be gentle, but even if you were a bit heavy handed, it wouldn’t have made a difference to Michael at all. The rubber moved around his eyes from time to time, revealing just a bit more skin around them than you were used to. It was like an unspoken secret between the two of you. You were able to see so much more than others, but never enough. 

 

He watched you the whole time. He didn’t look up into the full fluorescent light of the bathroom, or at the blank wall ahead of him, or even your hand as it moved around his face. His eyes stayed on yours the entire time. You could see them now, under the bathroom light. They were thinking, as always. You wondered what he was calculating in that moment. Then his hand crept up and placed themselves on your hips. Well, maybe you had a faint idea of what was on his mind. 

 

You chose to ignore him for a moment as you tried to clean the rest of his mask. You even took the knife out of his hand and cleaned it off as well before the blood could dry completely. The moment it was clean and clear, Michael grabbed your hip and pulled you closer. He had you pressed against his chest now, and his slow, rhythmic breathing caused it to rise and fall against you. You could see the eyes of a hunter. A hunter who had just killed his prey. Killed someone you knew. Could he kill you?

 

No, no he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. But the thought remained: he was a cold-blooded killer, so what were you? You never felt vulnerable in his presence. If anything, you felt protected, strengthened even. But there was still the inescapable sense of danger when you were around him. The irresistible, delicious sense of danger. Of fear. 

 

“Michael, you...” you trailed off and pushed yourself away from him and his grip. “You killed someone. Do you understand that? Do you understand what you did?” 

 

Michael tilted his head like a dog that couldn’t understand a single syllable of your human words. But you knew that he knew what he did. 

 

“You did it for me? Didn’t you? You hurt him for me?” 

 

Ever so slowly, his head nodded up and down. I was defending you, the nod said, protecting you. But here you were, cleaning off the blood of a man you once considered a friend off of The Boogeyman. Did Michael enjoy it? Did he enjoy killing his prey for some unknown reason that was behind all of his kills? Or did he enjoy it because he was protecting you? 

 

You left him in the bathroom and went to throw the hand towel away. You never wanted to use it again. You threw it in the garbage outside and came back to Michael standing by the doorway. His knife was still in his hand and the sight of it caused the thrill of fear to flow through you. You didn’t look at him as you walked in and headed straight to your bedroom. He followed you. He knew he had upset you, and he didn’t have the words to explain himself. You were disturbed, but only slightly. The thought of Michael extinguishing a life made you feel strange, but not in a bad way. He was always so close behind that you couldn’t even close your bedroom door behind you. 

 

You sat on the edge of your bed and crossed your arms, protectively. Michael stood there in his sheet and watched you for a moment. Each step that he took brought him closer to you. He threw his knife on the ground and kneeled down at your feet, searching your eyes. You tried to look away and he grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. The smallest whimper came from behind the mask. He wanted you to look at him and look at his pained eyes. I did it for you, they said. It was all for you. I would do anything. 

 

“I’m not mad, you know,” you said. He was looking up at you curiously. “I know you were only protecting me, isn’t that right?” It was less of a question and more of a reassurance of fact. He wanted Charles gone from your life. He didn’t want the threat to be around you. Michael jeopardized his own safety in order to keep you safe. Charles had threatened you, and you belonged to Michael. His territorial side shone through. You were his and he would protect what was his with his life. But he had killed someone. Killed them for you.

 

You figured it wasn’t so bad. 

 

“Would you do anything for me, Michael?”

 

He gave you the fastest and strongest nod you had ever seen him give. It was a frantic gesture, like he wanted you to know without a doubt that he was at your service. In that moment you knew he would kill a thousand men to keep you safe. He would not stop. He would not rest. He would always be there. For you. 

 

“Michael...” 

 

He perked up at the sound of his name. He loved hearing you say it. 

 

“Why did you pick me?” 

 

The same mysterious head tilt once more. 

 

“What’s so special? I’m no one. No different other people that you’ve...killed. So, why?” 

 

He answered by giving another tilt of his head. 

 

You realized that it really didn’t matter why. What mattered was that he was here for you and only you. You grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close to you. His head rested against your chest. At first his arms stayed dangling by his sides, but after a moment he brought them up and held you tight. 

 

Your thoughts were racing through your mind. You couldn’t forgive him because there was nothing to forgive. You had understood his reasons, or thought you understood. You admired him for it. He had done his duty to you the only way he knew how. It was in his nature to harm. He could not help it. 

 

Harm. He knew how to give it well. His entire body was bursting with unknown strengths and power. He was somewhat inhuman but you didn’t know how or why. But he was capable of almost too much. He was capable of hurting you but he never did. Unless asked. 

 

You could feel his muscles rippling with strength around you. He could easily kill you with just a squeeze of his arms. But he wouldn’t. Although he would do anything you tell him to. His hands were roaming you know, sliding up and down your spine and tugging at your clothes.

 

His strength. His brutality. The same brutality that caused him to come home bloody. The same brutality that resulted in his bullet wound scars that peppered his torso. The brutality that you wanted just a taste of. He would kill and kill and kill and kill and kill for you. And yet Michael was soft with you. But soft wasn’t always what you needed. 

 

His fingers were sneaking up your shirt and you felt electricity spark through his touch and into you. Your heart immediately began to pound and you found yourself addicted to his touch. But before he could do anything more, you stopped him. 

 

“Michael?” You pushed him away so he could look into your eyes. “This might be a strange request but...but well there’s no easy way to ask of this but—well, I want you to know that you don’t need to worry about hurting me. I can take it. I want you to be rough with me. I want you to show me that I’m yours.” 

 

Cocking his head from one side to another, he waited to make sure that you really wanted and could take this. You reassured him. But could you? 

 

He stared at you for a beat, and then stood up to his full height. 

 

Oh god, what were you doing? You just asked The Boogeyman to be rough with you just a little while after he murdered someone. Had you lost your mind?

 

But you wanted him. You had already accepted his nature. And now you wanted to embrace it. Fully. You would not be given mercy. 

 

You loved him. 

 

That’s when you realized it. You loved him. Every part of him. You loved his softness, the way he held you close, the way he always wanted to help. And you also loved his strength, his brutality, and his need for control. You loved the hunter. You loved the territorial animal that he was. 

 

You watched as he took off the sheet wrapped around his body. He began tearing it into strips. You were too distracted at seeing him fully naked for the first time to be mad at his destruction. His lean, pale body stood out in your room as if he were out of place somehow. Before you knew it, he was on top of you. He took one of the strips of your sheet and tied your wrists together. Another sheet was added to tuck them by your headboard, keeping your arms bound and above your head. You tugged lightly to test their strength. Michael sure knew how to tie a knot. You wondered how often he thought about doing this exact thing to you. Every movement felt as if it were rehearsed as if he were playing it over and over in his mind. You already knew he was going to hurt you. You were alright with this. 

 

Your legs were next. They were tied down to each side of your bed, making your legs spread outwards. You made slight sound as your legs stretched, and Michael glared at you. He grabbed another piece of fabric and placed it inside your mouth. He tied it around your head and gagged you. That’s when Michael got up off the bed and picked up the knife he had left on the ground. 

 

Fear began to spike itself through your body. The feeling of a thousand needle pinpricks throughout your body spread as you broke out into a sweat. 

 

All you could do was watch his naked frame climb on top of the bed and stop between your legs. He held the knife over you and began to snake it under your shirt. With a quick jerk upwards, he stabbed the knife up through your shirt and sliced it towards himself, tearing it in half. He ripped the rest of it off, throwing it aside. And then began to work on your pants. 

 

He worked carefully, making sure not to cut you, at least not yet. Your clothes were left in tatters around you. And then you were left naked and tied up in front of him. The gag on your mouth would cover up any noise that you made. You were at the mercy of a ruthless killer. The thought alone excited you enough that you squirmed in place. He didn’t like that. 

 

Michael put a hand on your stomach and pressed down, keeping you still. He brought his knife closer and closer to your stomach, until just the tip of the blade was pressing into skin. Very slowly, Michael slid the knife down your stomach to your pelvis. The further he went down, the harder he applied pressure into the blade. The pain shot up through you and you pulled against your restraints. Michael’s gaze shifted from the blade to your face. He stopped immediately and pulled the gag out of your mouth in worry. 

 

“No, no, don’t stop,” you gasped. “Keep going.” 

 

A low rumble escaped from deep in Michael’s chest, and he placed the gag back into your mouth. He was back to his work. His meticulous, steady work. 

 

His knife explored your body, sliding down your limbs and drawing thin, bloody lines. His favorite areas, you realized, were your thighs. His knife was scratching into your fleshy bits, meanwhile his free hand gripped and kneaded your flesh. Michael’s touch was rough with you, and you could already tell that he would be leaving bruises on your softest areas. 

 

Your body was responding to every single touch and movement. Your legs were already shaking from the adrenaline shooting through your veins. The pain was difficult to tolerate, but the way that it mixed with your vulnerability as well as the sense of danger, it made you forget at least some of the pain. You wanted more. You wanted Michael’s dominion over you. 

 

Your back arched off the bed when he placed his fingers against your most sensitive spots and stroked you. You couldn’t help but to let out a loud moan that even surprised yourself. Your wrists aches against their restraints as you pulled and pulled while your body twisted. Your jaw clenched around your gag as Michael rubbed you with the tip of his fingers. His knife was steadily working on your body. 

 

You were losing control of your body already. Your arousal was obvious and Michael took full advantage and pleasure in it. Your thighs were beginning to trickle blood down onto your sheets. Oh god, you would have to wash them too wouldn’t you? 

 

But your focus was back into Michael’s actions. You watched every one of his movements carefully, studying him. He was watching the blood flow down you in light streams. He removed his free hand from your groin and began to smear the blood on you. His hand stung the thin, fresh wounds, causing you to jerk around once more. He loved watching you squirmed. You could guess what was going on in his mind. He was obsessed with the fact that he could give you both pain and pleasure however he saw fit. Your body was under his control. 

 

You were breathing heavily now; your chest rose and fell quickly. Your arms and legs were quivering with delicious pain. Michael stopped using his knife for a moment and refocused his attention on your groin. His hands moved magically around you, already knowing which spots made you feel the best. Michael’s hand was rubbing you gently, his hand already becoming slick with your juices as you could handle less and less. Your breathing began to quicken. You were moaning behind your gag. His hand was working you faster, sliding up and down. And then, and then—

 

He stopped. You let out a sharp cry as you needed needed needed more. You jerked your head up and glared at him, pleaded. Please give me more, your look said. I’m so close, please please. He only stared at you. You tried to close your thighs to get some sort of stimulation, but he grabbed them and forcefully pulled them open. No, you would have to wait. 

 

Michael set his knife aside and sat up straight. You were able to see all of him once more. You were able to see the curves of his body as they flowed down. His lean muscles were rippling and bulging out from under his ghostly pale skin. His chest was heaving and you could hear his panting breathing for only a moment before your desperation kicked in. You needed to be touched. You needed him to touch you. So you began to beg. You begged and begged from behind your right gag, and pleaded for him to give just that last little touch that would send you skyrocketing into the air like a firework. But he did not move. He watched your squirming and reveled in it for a moment. 

 

Then, he began to move. 

 

He moved his body up and over you until he was sitting on you. He left a trail of his aroused fluids along your body as he slid himself upwards until he was right by your face. Taking a moment to free you of your gag, he then grabbed you by your jaw and pried it open. You immediately knew what he wanted. To get what you wanted, you needed to show your gratitude. 

 

Michael scooted himself a little bit higher and closer to your face, already dripping from his heat as he placed himself fully on your face. Your first instinct was to lick up his length. That accomplished two things. The first was your realization that his taste that coated your tongue made you crave more of it. Your mouth and tongue immediately grew attached to him as you wanted to taste him again. The second thing it accomplished was a sharp shiver that surged through Michael’s body. A harsh grunt came out from his throat, and he pressed more of himself into and around your mouth. 

 

Your mind was going a mile a minute, but it held still long enough for you to realize that this was most likely the first time a mouth had ever touched Michael here. He didn’t know that a mouth could feel this good on him, and his entire body was literally shaking from the stimulation. 

 

His hands lowered to grab your head and held it in place as he began to thrust into your face. Your mouth tried to keep up with it, you lips puckering and kissing every inch of his crotch that you could get into. His grip around your head was strong and harsh, and his pace began to quicken once your tongue lolled out of your mouth and plastered itself against his heat. He began grinding onto your tongue, and you did your best to give him what you wanted. You still ached for Michael’s touch, but this was better than nothing. The taste of his wet arousal unlocked something inside you, and you sought more from him. 

 

Michael Myers was now mashing himself against your face, your teeth digging into the back of your lips as you tried to protect him from their scrape. Moans escaped you and vibrated against Michael’s flesh. 

 

His rutting was growing faster and faster, and he began to hunch over from his animalistic pleasure. His hot liquid was coating your entire face now, and in between thrusts you swept your tongue out to get as much of it into your mouth as possible. Michael’s panting was growing harsh and you knew that he was coming close. His hands tugged harshly at your hair, using it to reposition your head in order to get at his sweet spot. 

 

Michael’s movements were growing manic and erratic, his hips constantly moving and thrusting. You took as much of him as you could, your tongue swirling along the tip of his bundle of nerves. His hips began to falter, and that’s when he gripped your head against himself as hard as he could, hurting you just a little, and came against your mouth and tongue. A harsh, low, animalistic grunt came from behind his mask as he rode out his orgasm. He didn’t stop thrusting for a while, not even stopping once his hypersensitivity came in. It must’ve hurt, and he must’ve enjoyed it. 

 

Your jaw was sore from staying open for so long, and your lips and tongue were soaked through with his essence. You were gasping for air, the desperation used up out of you. Your body was weak and ready to be used, but you made no effort to plead for him. His scent was all over you and all you could think of was that and his taste. His body was shivering above you, and he glared down at you. Michael’s eyes were wide and wild behind his mask, his breath haggard as he tried to gain control over it. 

 

Shuddering in his post-orgasmic bliss, he slowly moved down your body, his eyes never leaving your own. Michael positioned himself between your legs and resumed his work. You weren’t far behind from where he was, but his work on you was it’s own harsh reward. Using his own fluids to coat his fingers, he filled you with as many as he could, getting three of his thick, powerful digits into you with one thrust. They were pounding away, at you, bashing against your walls and then against your most sensitive spot inside of you. Your arms strained against your restraints, and your moaning was growing quicker. 

 

Adding another finger into you and filling you completely, he slammed his hand into you, almost raising you into the air with the force of each thrust. Your body twisted around on the bed, and Michael used his free hand to hold you down. Your cries were turning into higher pitch as you looked down at him, his head tilting from side to side in observation, and saw his fingers dipping in and out of you. Taking the hand that held you down, he roughly rubbed your most sensitive area, throwing you over the edge. 

 

You came hard on his hand, screaming almost from your orgasm as your thighs twisted together in order to keep Michael’s hand inside you. Your wrists aches with the force you were pulling on your restraints, but this only added to your pleasure. 

 

You moaned out Michael’s name, and with that, he gave a few last thrusts into you. You gasped for air as he finished his movements in you, and slowly pulled himself out. 

 

Both of you were left gasping for air, your body sore from his use from you. You already knew that you would be incredibly sore in just a little while, but it was completely worth it. He had used you for his own pleasure, and now he knew that you could take it. But now he also knew that that he could withhold your pleasure, and force you to beg for more. 

 

Your mind was completely blank, but you could feel him slowly undoing the straps around your legs. His body appeared above you as he undid the bounds around your wrists. He pulled you and sat you up, bringing you close to his chest. You let out a weak moan of satisfaction as you rested against his hard, bare chest. Michael’s hands traveled up your back and flowed through your hair. He gave you a squeeze and kept you close. He wanted to show that he could still be gentle with you. 

 

You both stayed there for a while, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, when your stomach emitted a long, hungry growl. You hadn’t eaten in hours, and the last of your energy was used up with Michael. He pulled away from you and gave you a curious look. You smiled at him, and slowly moved over off the bed. Your clothes had been done in, and while you were slightly miffed at that, at least you would be getting paid soon. You went over to your dresser and changed into more comfy clothes. Michael had to remain naked, but he would have to deal with it for a little while longer while his clothes were put in the dryer. 

 

“Come on, will you help me make dinner?” 

 

He gave a quick, eager nod and immediately got up. He seemed less shy in his nakedness now, which you took as a sign of trust. You reveled in being so many firsts for Michael. First one to see him like this, the first to live for so long, and hopefully, the first that he loved. 

 

He followed you out into the kitchen and helped with being the extra hands you needed for dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part 3! Part 4 is being written at the moment and hopefully it'll be done by the end of the week! I'm blown away by how many hits the other two parts of gotten in just a night and WOW thank you all so much! I'm also working on a Bubba Sawyer fic as well so keep your eyes open for that!


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